


Move Your Feet

by desticockles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkwardness, But only a little, Kinda fluff?, M/M, Mild Language, Season 10 Spoilers, idk it's cute though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desticockles/pseuds/desticockles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a fb prompt: footsie under the table with the wrong person</p><p>Dean tries to get Cas's attention, but it doesn't go quite as he planned.</p><p>(Let's pretend that Cas didn't leave at the end of 10x03, okay? Ok good.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move Your Feet

Castiel has never been very good at flirting. Really, he never knew how to do it, or to respond to it. But something in Dean changed after he was cured, like he had some epiphany and thought it would be the perfect time to start trying to subtly hint at the fact that he has some very non-platonic feelings for Castiel. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought of the fact that Cas is incredibly clueless at times. In hind sight, it may have been easier to just come out and say it, but every time he thought of doing so he would panic.

At first he figured "no harm no foul" right? Just so long as he didn't do anything in front of Sam, because he was not ready to deal with relentless teasing from his brother for this.

He started with seemingly innocent compliments to his friend; "your eyes are really pretty by the way..." and "is that my shirt? It looks good on you." But Cas didn't seem to ever catch on, even when Dean would throw in a wink.

After a few weeks of fruitless attempts at flirting with Cas, Dean decided to take another little baby step. Lingering touches. He would make sure to brush their arms together when they passed in the hallway, stand closer than necessary when they were in the kitchen together, and once he actually cornered the other man; crowded him in against the wall, and _thank fuck_ he has self control or he might have just kissed the other man. But he took a deep breath and stepped back.

The rest of that day was spent holed up in his room, telling himself how stupid he had been.

A few days of generally avoiding Cas brings his self esteem back up a few points, and he tries to figure out what the hell he is doing. If Cas is going to get the hint he's going to have to try harder. This is what prompts Dean to take a risk one night at the dinner table.

Now that they are all together again in the bunker, he has been insisting on having real dinners in the real dining room at a real table and with real plates. Sam had been a little hesitant at the idea but Cas had smiled softly and said something about how much he thought Sam and Dean deserved to have something normal for once. And of course the dorky little guy had immediately turned to leave. When Dean stopped him he looked back with narrowed eyes that didn't really hide his sadness.

"C'mon man, stay," Dean urged, gesturing to the table as he set down a third plate. "You're family, too, remember?"

Cas had nodded somewhat solemnly, but when he actually sat down Dean didn't miss the little smile on his face. And since that night Cas has been sitting with them at the table every night, even if he sometimes doesn't eat anything at all.

This night, though, he is sitting with a plate of pasta in front of him, smiling at Dean in quiet thanks. Sam and Cas are sitting across from Dean, both eating the food as if it might be their last meal. Dean smiles to himself, admittedly proud of the little bit of domesticity he has acquired here with his little family.

And this night, Dean decides to make a move. Maybe, he thinks, Cas will get it this time. Though he has thought that every time, and thus far he's got nothing to show for it.

Half way through their meal, Dean casually stretches his legs under the table, holding back a smile when he finds Cas's foot with his own. Cas doesn't react at all, though. His foot remains in place, like maybe he thought it was an accident. So Dean takes a quiet, deep breath to steel himself, and moves his foot to press more fully against Cas's own. Still, no reaction. He slides his foot up, along the line of his calf.

A loud smack sounds from beneath the table, plates rattling, and Sam makes a choked little sound and reaches down to rub at his knee. Dean feels his face turn bright red as he pulls his feet back, tucking them under his chair. He hangs his head and pretends he doesn't know what's going on because damn that's embarrassing. Of course the one time he tries something like that he messes up and plays footsie with his fucking brother instead.

"Are you alright?" Cas asks, and Dean glances up to see him looking at Sam, brows furrowed in concern.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam asks instead of answering. Dean refuses to look up, unsure of how to explain himself. "Dude, footsie? Are you twelve or...?"

"Shut up." Dean snaps, trying to force his cheeks from turning pink.

"No, I want to know. Was that an accident? Please tell me that was an accident."

"Dude, just drop it." Dean looks up briefly, catching Sam rolling his eyes.

"Footsie?" Cas inquires, probably a question directed at Sam. Dean wants to slink down to the floor and meld in with the wooden boards, to just not have to deal with this stupid mistake.

"Yeah, footsie. The thing people do when they're either a five year old who thinks it's hilarious, or when a _grown man_  is trying to-" Sam stops abruptly and turns his eyes to Dean, squinting at him in a way that is terrifying and makes Dean wonder for a moment if Gadreel is back for a visit. "Dean?"

"What?" Dean asks after a lengthy silence, voice low and quiet.

"You didn't mean to to that to me, did you?"

Dean shakes his head and shoves a fork full of pasta into his mouth, wishing for some way out of this. He can't just come out and say that he messed up.

"Dean, seriously."

"Nuh, I shwer it w-s 'n 'sidnt." Dean mutters through a mouth full of food. Sam rolls his eyes and just stares at him until he has swallowed his food. "It was an accident."

"I really doubt that..."

"Just drop it, Sam," Dean growls, glaring up at his brother over a fork-full of food.

"No, dude. Just tell me-"

"Okay, no. It wasn't supposed to be you. Just... Leave it alone."

There is a brief moment of tense silence before Cas speaks up, "Dean, I don't understand. What is happening?"

"He was-"

"Don't you dare," Dean interrupts his brother, mortified by the idea of this confession coming from Sam's mouth. No, if Cas is finding out tonight, Dean has to be the one to say it. He takes a deep breath, hesitantly meeting Cas's steady gaze. "I was trying to... Uh... Flirt. With you."

Cas's eyes widen immediately, and Dean wants to look away. But looking away makes him a coward, he thinks, so he pulls himself up a little taller and tries to maintain eye contact. After a moment Cas smiles and nods, breaking their stare to pile some pasta into his mouth.

"Th-that's it? You're not gonna'-"

"Dean, it's okay," Cas asserts kindly, smiling at him again. "I don't mind."

Don't mind. Don't mind?

"You don't mind?" Dean asks, breathless and a little disappointed. Yeah, at least Cas isn't offended, but... Not minding it is different from actually liking it, wanting it, or wanting more. Not minding is tolerance, not reciprocation. Dean is tempted to burry his face in his hands or flee the room, both out of sheer embarrassment and of defeat. He mumbles through his fingers, " _Jesus_ , just forget any of this happened."

"Why would I? Dean, it's okay."

"No, man. I didn't- I thought-" Dean huffs a heavy sigh and pushes his fingers through his recently cut hair. "I feel like a dumbass."

"Why?"

"Why?" Dean parrots, disbelieving. "Because I've been trying to flirt with you for weeks and I get no reaction at all, and when I come out and say it you just... You just smile and pretend nothing happened?"

"Dean, I- I apologize. I don't know how to respond. But that does not mean I don't feel the same."

Dean can't think of anything to say in response to that. His mind is stuck repeating Cas's last words. He... He really feels the same. All this time Dean has been freaking out over nothing?

"How long?" He finally asks. He doesn't realize it's a vague question until he notices Cas's confused staring, head tilted to the side in a familiar gesture of 'please explain yourself'. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Oh." Cas presses his lips together and looks down at his half empty plate, seemingly trying very hard to remember. "I think... Since I found you in Hell."

Dean gapes at him, unbelieving. He can't find words, as if his mind has been switched off. He blinks back to reality only when Sam awkwardly stands from the table and excuses himself. And then Dean and Cas are alone at the table. Dean swallows thickly and leans back in his chair, trying to calm down. Six years is a lot to process at once.

Six years. Six fucking years of Cas "feeling the same" and he had no idea. This whole time...

"Are you serious?" Dean whispers, catching Cas's small nod in response. He scrubs a hand across his stubble covered jaw and nods back, focusing his gaze on Cas's chest.

"I apologize for never saying anything, but I worried that you would not reciprocate my feelings. And I was never supposed to feel at all, but..." Cas sighs and leans his elbows on the table, hands on either side of his face. "You are different. You always have been."

"Ya' know," Dean says after some time, smiling slightly, "it's probably better you didn't say anything. I don't think I would have been ready to hear it before now."

"Oh," Cas replies, smiling almost bitterly. "When did you... come to terms with your feelings, exactly?"

"Well, when I was still a demon," the last word leaves Dean's mouth as a bitter sound, leaving him feeling slightly sick, "I thought you were dead, so I'd kinda tried to forget you. But, when I was cured it was like... I just, saw you there, alive and real, and-" Dean pauses, pulling in a shaky breath. As he exhales he says, "I wondered if I was in heaven. I knew it didn't make sense, because how could someone with the mark of Cain end up in heaven? But, seeing you there, I knew. I knew I needed you around, that I- that what I feel for you isn't what I feel for Sam. Or anyone else, really. I don't even know why I'm saying this, I feel like an idiot."

Cas nods and sighs, licking his lips. Suddenly Dean feels Cas's hand on top of his own on the table, glances down and finds that he needs more than that; he shifts their hands so that their fingers are laced together, fitting together like they'd been made to fill in each other's spaces.

"Dean?" Dean hums, urging Cas to continue. Despite trying to stay calm, he feels his heart is beating hard in his chest. "Would it be out of line for me to admit that I... Love you?"

Dean feels all of the air leave his lungs in one sharp burst of air, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. He wonders for a moment if his heart is still beating, but decides that it is, only faster than normal. Like a humming bird, he thinks, how it has to beat it's wings too fast for the human eye to perceive, just to keep itself from crashing to the ground.

"No, that's not out of line, Cas." Dean sighs, chest weighted by the need to return those three words and an inability to get them past his lips. And maybe Cas doesn't need him to say it back, though, because he grins. Cas actually grins; white teeth shining, gums peeking out from the edge of his comparatively pale lips stretched thinner than normal. He's beautiful when he really smiles like this, Dean thinks.

And he wants to say it. He wants to be able to tell Cas how he feels, to tell him he is beautiful and perfect even though he is flawed, to tell him how many times he has wanted to kiss him, like now. He wants to drag Cas up, reach across the table, and kiss his stupidly handsome face, right on the lips. But he won't, frozen in place by some stupid, unnecessary and obviously irrational fear.

Dean couldn't bear rejection, not now. Not when he knows that their time is limited, that the grace in Cas will eventually wear away and he will die unless they can find where Metatron stashed the last of it... And the mark might some day eat Dean up, leaving him a black eyed, heartless bastard once more. He knows this is it for them, and this is more than he could've asked for or expected. So a kiss might be too much, he thinks, and keeps himself planted firmly in his seat.

Still, Cas rubs little circles against his knuckle with a thumb, smiling at him sweetly, and says, "you don't have to say it back."

"I'm sorry." Dean blurts, lowering his gaze.

"I mean that, Dean. I understand."

Dean shakes his head and contemplates tugging his hand free, overwhelmed by the moment. Instead he chews his lip and tries to force himself to stay put, to look up into Cas's eyes and just say something. Anything.

"Can I kiss you?" Is, for some reason unbeknownst to Dean, the first thing to come out of his mouth when he opens it to speak. He feels his cheeks turn bright red as he waits for an answer.

But instead of an answer, Cas smiles crookedly and leans across the table, a hand at the back of Dean's head pulling him forward a bit to slot their lips together. It feels right; like a reprieve. Dean isn't sure how long he has been waiting for this moment, but he suddenly realizes that he had been desperate for it, for the soft press of lips he had always assumed would be chapped and dry. No, he now knows, Cas's lips are as soft as they are full, warm and welcoming as they are pink.

The kiss is quick, chaste, and so sweet that Dean feels a little disoriented, but he wouldn't dare to wish for anything different. This kiss is perfect. And now, as Cas lingers with their foreheads pressed together, Dean wonders how much longer he would have had to wait if he hadn't played with the wrong foot. He makes a mental note to apologize to Sam later, but for now he needs to keep kissing Cas. He leans up to slot their mouths together, smiling faintly against Cas's lips.

And finally, after weeks back in the bunker, Dean feels truly at home

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta, so any and all mistakes are my own. This was also written in one go, late at night... If it's horrible, I apologize.  
> But thanks for reading ^_^  
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated. If you see any errors or just want to point out a flaw or something you really liked, please don't be scared to comment and let me know.


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